


trying to recognize myself when i feel i've been replaced

by Yevynaea



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Alien Impostor(s) (Among Us), Betrayal, Family Feels, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Heavy Angst, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Minor Character Death, Murder, One Shot, Outer Space, Parasites, The Skeld (Among Us), Time Skips, Two Impostors (Among Us), Violence, especially when there's an alien murderer running around, idk why i'm adding these tags yall know what the game is about, raising kids in space is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27077251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: “What the hell happened?” Tafari asks, looking to Hira, who shakes their head vehemently.“I don’t-- I was on cams, and I had headphones on listening to comms, I didn’t see--”“You’re saying someone killed her, right behind you, and you saw nothing?” Jordan demands.“I didn’t!” Hira says, sobbing. “I promise I didn’t--”(Or: y'all ever overthink a fun lil game so hard you invent a whole crew of ocs? haha me neither)(OR: idk guys red's lookin' pretty sus)
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, Green & Orange (Among Us), Green & Pink (Among Us), Green & Yellow (Among Us), Orange & Pink (Among Us), Orange & Yellow (Among Us), Past Orange/Red (Among Us), Pink & Yellow (Among Us)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	trying to recognize myself when i feel i've been replaced

**Author's Note:**

> me? writing a whole angst narrative about the video game jellybeans? _you know it bitch._  
>  title's from still feel by half.alive

“You look like you lost a fight to an origami crane,” Liam says, when Hira enters the medbay.

“Hilarious,” they deadpan. They’ve got their helmet off, their suit open halfway, sleeves tied loosely around their waist, and they’ve got small cuts all up one arm, even one on their forehead.

“What  _ actually  _ happened?” Liam asks, gesturing toward a cot.

“Lost a fight to Jordan’s ‘dog’,” they put the last word in air quotes. Liam hums, understanding.

“Not quite like the ones back home, is she?” he teases. Hira  _ huffs,  _ then pauses, thoughtful _. _

“Do you ever miss it? Home, I mean,” they ask, hopping up onto the bed. They put their helmet down on the cot beside them.

_ They’re so small,  _ Liam thinks, fondly amused, glancing at how they can swing their dangling legs over the edge of the bed. He grabs a medkit from the shelf and brings it over, placing it next to them on the cot. He doesn’t answer right away, digging through the kit for antiseptic spray, but Hira doesn’t seem to mind, waiting silently, their expression open and expectant.

Liam thinks of a cold night, wind in his face, stars stretching out above him. One of his earliest memories is of the sky; of staring up into that endless sea of light and wishing he could reach it.

“...Sometimes,” he admits. “Close your eyes.” Hira obeys, and he uses one gloved hand to block the spray from getting in their face as he cleans off a small cut on their head.

“Where are the kids?” Hira asks.

“Pink’s looking after them,” Liam answers, opening a bandage strip, then blushing as he realizes he used the nickname without thinking about it.

“That’s nice of him.” Hira smiles, a gentle, knowing thing, and Liam focuses on lining the bandage up with their wound, carefully not meeting their eyes.

“Yeah…” He sprays and bandages another scratch, this one on their upper arm. He continues to work in silence, and Hira, thankfully, doesn’t push, doesn’t try to force a conversation.

When he’s done, Liam steps back, closing the medkit. “There. Should be all good.”

“Thanks,” Hira says, smiling again as they hop down, and start to fasten up their suit.

“You’re due for a new scan, by the way,” he mentions. “Want to get it over with now?”

“I-- later,” Hira says, fumbling with a zipper. “Can it wait, a couple of hours? I still have-- tasks, to finish.”

“...Alright.” Liam turns to put the medkit back on the shelf. His stomach gives an ill-timed grumble, and Hira giggles.

“Hungry?” they ask, teasing, as they pick up their helmet.

“ _ Maybe _ ,” Liam replies, picking up his own from the table where he’d set it. He glances at the display on the wrist of his suit, frowning when he sees the time. “I guess I didn’t realize how late it is. Forgot to take a lunch break.”

“You should take better care of yourself,” Hira scolds, tone still light. “What _ ever  _ would we do without you, if you starved to death?”

“You’d have to find a new doctor, I suppose,” Liam jokes. Hira gives him a playful glare.

“Come on,” they say, motioning him toward the door. “Come eat an early dinner with me.”

“...Alright,” he says again. Helmets held under their arms, both of them head to the cafeteria, where Tafari is already sitting at a table with two orange-clad children, trying to explain the concept of nutrients.

“Eat your vegetables or no dessert,” Liam interrupts flatly. Ari and Alisa barely glance at him before complying, shoveling steamed spinach into their mouths-- though not without a bit of dramatic grimacing. “Hope they haven’t been any trouble for you,” Liam says to Tafari, putting his helmet down to ruffle both kids’ hair simultaneously.

“No, they were great,” Tafari smiles warmly. “They helped me clean the oxygen filter, even.”

“Wow,” Liam says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at his children. “Wonder why they can’t be that helpful for  _ me _ .”

The twins duck their heads, hiding smiles, and Hira laughs.

“You sit,” they tell Liam. “I’ll grab us plates.”

  
  


Time slips away from them, sometimes. It happens to pretty much everyone, out here in the void. The lights dim slightly for about 9 hours every ‘night’, simulating a sun cycle, but everyone runs on their own schedule. It’s hard to keep track of time when everything looks the same.

Still. Losing  _ track  _ of time is different than  _ losing  _ time. So when they start waking up in strange places, Hira goes to Liam.

“You could be sleepwalking,” he says. He’s got his helmet on-- as usual; the goody-two-shoes with his regulations. The medbay lights reflecting off the tinted glass keep Hira from seeing his expression. “Are you having trouble sleeping? Any other symptoms?”

“Symptoms of what?” they ask.

“...Anything,” Liam says, shrugging slightly.

“Uh-- no,” they shake their head, “no, I don’t think so. I just… keep waking up somewhere other than my bunk. Today it was Electrical.”

“Any history of sleepwalking?” Liam asks. Hira shakes their head. “Anyone in your family do it?”

That gives them pause.

“My dad,” they answer. “When I was young. Sometimes he’d even try to cook while asleep.” They smile at the memory; their father, eyes vacant, voice slurring, insisting he had guests to feed, while their mother assured him the cooking had already been done, he could come back to bed.

Liam nods. “It tends to run in families,” he says. “We’ll have to accommodate for it, as a crew, watch to see if you have patterns that can be interrupted. I don’t want to prescribe any medications without more information first, but I think that’s all it is. I don’t--” he cuts off suddenly, and then gives a little hum: his way of indicating he’s smiling when he’s got his helmet on and no one can see it.

“You don’t what?” Hira asks.

“I... don’t think there’s anything, else, going on,” Liam says haltingly.

“What’s that mean? ‘Anything else’?” Hira frowns. There’s a small, twisting dread in their stomach, as they try and fail to meet Liam’s eyes through his helmet.

“You know what it means,” he says quietly.

A white suit, a crushed helmet, a body mutilated beyond recognition. Blood smeared across the walls, the crackle of an electric prod, the weight of it in their hand and the blur of tears in their eyes as they helped Jordan and Nuria herd a stumbling figure into the airlock chamber. A red-gloved fist slamming against the door, a familiar voice sobbing, pleading innocence, begging not to be killed. The  _ whoosh  _ of the outer door opening, and the deafening silence that followed. The writhing mass of tentacles and teeth that burst free from Be-- from the body outside the porthole, grasping desperately toward the ship before dying.

Hira’s mouth is dry when they open it to reply.

“No,” they say, quiet. “It-- we found it. We  _ killed  _ it.”

“We have no idea what it was,” Liam counters. “Whether it replaced her or-- or  _ became  _ her, whether it could have… spread.”

Hira shakes their head.

“No,” they repeat, vehement. “No. I’m not-- it’s not-- I’m just sleepwalking. You said. You  _ said.  _ That’s all it is.”

Liam hesitates, then nods.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he says softly. Hira swallows the lump in their throat, and takes a step backward, toward the door. “...You still haven’t done that medscan, by the way. The system keeps flashing reminders at me.”

Liam takes a step forward, mirroring Hira’s step back, reaching out as if to put a comforting hand on their shoulder, to lead them to the scanner.

_ I can’t be here.  _ The thought hits them suddenly, out of nowhere, blood rushing in their ears, adrenaline flooding their limbs.

“I-- no-- I can’t,” they blurt, taking another step back. Liam pauses, and Hira turns away from him, feeling his eyes like a prickle on the back of their neck as they leave in a hurry. “Sorry-- I have to go.”

“Hira!” Liam calls after them, but they don’t hear footsteps. He doesn’t follow them out.

  
  


Hira’s scream is loud enough to echo through the ship, bringing everyone running to the security office even before the emergency alert comes through their comms. Nuria’s body is there, the glass of her helmet shattered, blood pooling around her head. A clean hole goes through her skull and the back of her blue helmet.

“What the hell happened?” Tafari asks, looking to Hira, who shakes their head vehemently.

“I don’t-- I was on cams, and I had headphones on listening to comms, I didn’t see--”

“You’re saying someone killed her,  _ right behind you,  _ and you saw nothing?” Jordan demands.

“I didn’t!” Hira says, sobbing. “I promise I didn’t--”

“It’s okay,” Liam says, crossing the room, wrapping Hira in a hug. “I believe you.”

“Liam,” Jordan says, warning.

“I believe them,” Liam repeats firmly. “We know now that there’s another one. Like-- like Red. But there’s no evidence that points to Hira. We know those things can squeeze themselves through the vent system.” He lets go of Hira, steps back to gesture toward the vent in the corner of the room. “Anyone could have come in from there.”

“The vents aren’t all connected,” Tafari points out. “The killer would’ve had to come from somewhere nearby. Electrical or…”

“Or medbay.” Jordan finishes when Tafari trails off, eyes narrowing at Liam. “Where were you, just now?”

“Putting the twins to bed,” Liam says, calm, but defensive at Jordan’s sudden accusation. “Which I should get back to, now. I’m sure the alert woke them up, I don’t want them to see this.” He gestures to Nuria’s corpse, and Hira sobs again.

“I didn’t see-- someone killed her right here and I didn’t see--” they cover their mouth with their hand. They see Liam gesture to Tafari, who nods and takes his place at Hira’s side as Liam leaves the room.

Jordan takes a deep breath, giving Hira an unreadable look.

“We need to move the body to cold storage,” she says. “Tafari, get her legs?”

Tafari rubs Hira’s arm comfortingly, then nods, expression grim. He and Jordan lift Nuria up, carrying her out. Hira is left alone, with a silent room and a puddle of blood.

  
  


“Do you ever miss home, Hira?” Liam asks. Hira is leading the way to Electrical with their free hand running against the wall, and the other holding Alisa, who’s holding onto Ari, with Liam leading up the back of their little chain. It sounds like one or both of the twins are crying, tiny whimpered breaths from under their small helmets, and Hira’s heart pangs.

“All the time,” they reply easily, trying to keep their tone light and casual.

“What do you miss the most?” Liam asks.

“Fresh pomegranates,” Hira answers.

“What’s a pomegranate?” Alisa asks, hesitant, but curious. Hira huffs a small laugh, unsurprised. Having been born on a station, the twins have never been to the planet their parents called home.

“It’s a fruit. You open the outside and eat the seeds,” Hira explains.

“Is it sweet?” Ari asks.

“Usually,” Hira says. They turn the corner into Electrical, and fumble their way to the switch panel, flicking switches until the lights come back on, blinding-bright. “There we go! That wasn’t so scary, was it?”

The twins shake their heads, and Liam, behind them, gives Hira a grateful smile.

  
  


The alarms are blaring, the display on their wrist blinking red in time with the ship’s lights, showing the oxygen levels slowly depleting. Hira’s fingers fumble over the buttons, accidentally punching in an 8 instead of a 9, and they curse, starting over, desperation making them clumsier. They punch the code in, and the alarms and flashing lights stop. Hira slumps in relief, knowing that means Jordan and Tafari were able to get to O2 and enter the other code.

“Do you remember the day we found out about Bea?” Liam’s voice asks, right behind them. Hira startles, turning.

“You scared me,” they say, lightly scolding. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” he says. He doesn’t say more, apparently waiting for an answer.

“...Of course,” Hira says. “It was terrifying. Seeing her-- she had you pinned, about to plunge a knife in your chest-- and the kids were in the corner, crying. I had to tackle her off of you…” they trail off, memories flashing unpleasantly behind their eyes. They swallow, then quietly add: “How could I forget?”

“Do you know why I vouched for you, after Nuria?” Liam asks, stepping closer. Hira, dread curling in their stomach, shakes their head. Liam seems to sense their unease, and stops. Steps back. “...Because I’ve seen the eyes of those killers up-close. I saw them in-- in what I thought was my wife. And you don’t-- you still look like you.”

“Oh,” Hira breathes. She looks down at her yellow-gloved hands, still shaking slightly. “I-- sorry.”

“For what?” Liam asks.

_ For being scared of you just now,  _ they want to answer.  _ For not trusting you, when you’ve done nothing but protect me, help me-- _

“Nothing.” They shake their head.

Jordan skids into the room at full speed.

“Oh, good,” she says, looking between Hira and Liam with mild surprise in her eyes. “You’re both alive.”

“Where’s Tafari?” Liam asks, frowning slightly.

“Went to check on the kids,” Jordan says. Liam’s expression softens, and he nods.

“I’ll go find them,” he says.

  
  


“It wasn’t me! It’s not me, Liam,  _ please!”  _ Jordan’s voice is muffled through the airlock door, her fists pounding desperately against the metal. “ _ Liam! Hira! It’s not me! I didn’t kill him!” _

A sob catches in Liam’s throat, and he hesitates, hand hovering over the panel that will eject their crewmate from the ship.

“We  _ saw  _ her standing over Tafari,” Hira reminds him, putting a steadying hand on his arm. “She didn’t report it-- she was just  _ standing  _ there! She’s been accusing both of us at random since Nuria died, trying to throw suspicion off herself.  _ It’s her _ .”

“What if we’re wrong?” Liam asks, barely more than a breath.

“We’re  _ not _ ,” Hira says. They slam their hand down on the panel, stomach flipping with regret as soon as it’s done. There’s a scream, a sickening  _ whoosh,  _ and then silence. Hira breathes heavily, and when they look up to meet Liam’s eyes-- there’s fear there. Fear of  _ them _ , they think, with a pang of hurt.

And then it fades.

Liam’s expression goes flat, his eyes going cold, nothing in them but a distant sort of fascination.

“We didn’t think you had it in you,” he says.

Hira’s moving before they can even process why, breaking into a sprint, running for the bunks, where the twins were instructed to stay after Tafari’s body was found.

They can hear Liam’s footsteps behind them, and they push themself to run faster, heart and stomach sinking as he gains on them, his longer legs an advantage.

They have their hand on the door when he catches up, one arm wrapping around their neck in a chokehold, lifting them clean off the ground. Hira sobs, gasping for air and getting none.

“I’m sorry,” Liam mutters in their ear, as their vision starts to fade, “that I let you believe you’d saved me.”

  
  


“Uncle Hira!”

They wake to two crying voices, small hands shaking their arms. Hira gasps, then coughs, trying to get enough air, their throat bruised and sore. They open their eyes, 

“Kids,” they breathe, grasping back at the twins, holding onto them with shaking hands. “ _ Kids--  _ where-- what happened? Where’s your dad?”

“He said he was staying behind,” says Ari.

“He said he would follow in another pod,” adds Alisa.

“He gave us this.”

“For you.”

A holo-recorder is pressed into their hand.

Hira looks around, at the escape pod. The ship’s only escape pod, with all the unopened crates of supplies piled neatly in the center of the floor. They breathe deeply, getting their panicked heartbeat under control before standing to check the pod’s navigation readout.

  
  


“I’ll take care of them.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” It’s not even a question. There’s no hesitation, no doubt in Hira’s mind. They’re the only one the kids have left.

“Okay. I’ll have guardianship paperwork drawn up,” says the captain in charge of the station. Hira knows she’s told them her name, but they don’t remember what it is. “For now, get some rest. I think I got all the information I need for my report.”

  
  


_ “I know you’ll look after them.”  _ The recording is garbled, full of static, but clear enough to pick Liam’s voice out of the mess. Every time Hira listens to it, late at night, in their room, when the kids are asleep, they tell themself it’ll be the last time. That they’ll destroy it in the morning. But they never do.  _ “You care about people-- about them. You always have. That’s why we couldn’t--”  _ A pause, or a hesitation.  _ “I’m sorry.” _

The recording ends, and Hira is alone in the dark.

  
  


The twins scanned clean. All three of them did, when their pod docked at the station, when they were taken in, rescued.

In the privacy of their new rooms, Hira sets three dinner plates on the table, two of which are piled with raw, red meat.

“Thank you, Aunt Hira,” the twins chorus, smiling at Hira with too many teeth and blank, cold eyes. Hira swallows the lump in their throat.

“You’re welcome,” they say, turning to their meal.


End file.
